


I Trust You

by bleep0bleep



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Demons, M/M, Possession, Season/Series 03, Written Prior to Nogitsune Reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 13:59:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleep0bleep/pseuds/bleep0bleep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>There’s a grin on Stiles’ body, and he says, “I don’t think so… oh, what did he like to call you? Oh,</i> Sourwolf.”</p><p>-</p><p>Derek confronts a possessed Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Trust You

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Я тебе верю](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6579130) by [madchester](https://archiveofourown.org/users/madchester/pseuds/madchester)



> _This work is intended for the private enjoyment of the reader. I do not give permission to this work being shared with or read aloud by the press, or anyone working on said production of_ Teen Wolf, _including but not limited to cast, crew, writers, or producers. I also do not give permission share this work on third-party websites such as Goodreads, which I believe is a resource intended for published works outside of fandom._
> 
> ~
> 
> Written for this prompt [here.](http://teenwolftoday.tumblr.com/post/75678447632/i-somehow-want-a-scene-where-possessed-stiles-is)

Derek had thought it strange at first, the way he had yet to run into Stiles since he had gotten back for Beacon Hills.

"Oh yeah, you just missed him. Stiles left this research for us, but he said he wasn’t feeling well and went home early," Lydia says while they try to plan a strategy for dealing with the Nogitsune.

Or, it would be Scott receiving a text that Stiles couldn’t make it, tell Derek thanks for the pizza but he was eating dinner with the Sheriff.

Before, Derek had found it difficult to even walk around Beacon Hills without being accosted by Stiles, with his flailing arms, bright eyes and smirk, demanding help with some supernatural bullshit or other. Snarking at him at the grocery market when Derek buys his milk; goading Derek on in the middle of pack discussions when they should have been planning; it was all suddenly gone, and unnaturally quiet.

Derek didn’t want to call attention to it, but it settled in the back of his mind, how Stiles always seemed to abruptly leave before Derek arrived, or would show up after Derek had left. Derek almost called it off as Stiles simply avoiding him, maybe Stiles finally figured out this unspoken thing between them that had been building, from the reluctant allies to _something else_ , something that grew from the lingering looks and longer conversations, shared stories over that one summer. Derek had been fine with waiting it out, letting whatever it was simmer, it wasn’t like he was going to do something about it anyways while Stiles was underage. If he was going to do something about it at all. Maybe it made Stiles uncomfortable. Maybe Stiles wanted him to make a move. Who knew, with teenagers, right? 

If only it were that simple.

The weeks dragged on, and there was no progress, and the missing persons and found bodies added up; unexplainable things, not possible to blame on any “animal attack,” for what could you do with a lifeless body, dead, with hollow sunken eyes with no physical evidence to how they had been killed?

And now Derek knows he was right; wishes he trusted his instincts and spoke up earlier about Stiles, wishes he hadn’t just let his insecurities stop him from bringing up that question that no one else had asked, _what’s wrong with Stiles?_

Derek can see it now, the darkness, ebbing and flowing around Stiles’ body, a dark, swirling cloud, and Stiles’ eyes flicker, but there’s none of the warm brown Derek remembers, just black, an empty abyss pooling in Stiles’ pupils. Stiles grins, a slow, curving smile with no mirth as he delivers another sickening blow to Derek’s gut.

Stiles’ body is unnaturally strong, his body pulsating with dark energy, one hand coiled tight, wound around Derek’s neck, lifting him in the air. Derek squirms, kicking his feet.

"Stiles," he gasps, "You have to fight it," he splutters, blood pulsing out of his mouth from the beating Stiles gave him earlier. _Just hold him off…Scott…the others… will be safe,_ Derek thinks.

There’s a grin on Stiles’ body, and he says, “I don’t think so… oh, what did he like to call you? Oh, _Sourwolf_.”

And then laughter, as Derek is flung in the air.

Derek flops on the ground, energy spent. He can’t bring himself to hurt him, not when he knows Stiles is still in there. Somewhere. He can barely keep his eyes open, swollen and bruised as his face is; but he continues to take the blows, knowing with each hit the darkness grows and gets stronger, leeching the life force from his body.

Derek scrabbles to get up, to listlessly block Stiles and take more hits. It’s all he can do now, distract the creature so the others have a chance. Derek falls on his knees, body shaking.

"Why don’t you fight back?" comes the tease, licking Stiles’ lips. "Is it because you don’t want to mark up this body? Oh, it’s a nice one, I know."

Derek grits his teeth. “Stiles, you can do it,” he mutters.

The creature laughs. “Oh, aren’t you encouraging? You should see some of the thoughts he had about you.” It looks down on Derek now, wearing Stiles face, twisting it into a cruel smile. “It’s a pity, isn’t it. You’ll never know. I’m going to kill you know, and the pain little Stiles is letting out is going to be _oh so delicious._ ”

Derek looks up, blinking away the blood in his eyes, pain riddling his body, body faint and weak, paralyzed. A distant memory surfaces in his mind of another time he was paralyzed, Stiles holding him up in a pool, staring down a monster with him.  _I don’t trust you, you don’t trust me,_ Stiles had said. It seems so long ago now. “Stiles, I trust you,” Derek gasps. He closes his eyes, resigning to his fate. If anything, he wants him to know that. That Derek appreciated him, noticed him, knew him.

He waits for the fatal blow.

It doesn’t come.

There’s a hand stroking his cheek, tentative and warm.

"Derek?"

Derek opens his eyes and Stiles is holding his face, eyes brimming with pain but they’re brown again, clear and bright, and the dark aura is gone. “Stiles,” Derek says, leaning into the touch, and his body chooses that moment to collapse.

Stiles catches him, and his arms tighten around Derek, both of them shaking. “Oh my God,” Stiles breathes. “Derek, I _killed_ people. I— I was going to kill you.”

Derek breathes in Stiles’ scent, now that it’s back to normal and no longer the sickening, diseased smell that he had when possessed. He rests his forehead against Stiles’, whispering hoarsely, “No, it wasn’t you, okay? You were being controlled. But you fought it—you broke it’s control over you.”

"Yeah," Stiles says, and there’s a tense pause in the air. Derek realizes that they’re still holding each other, faces touching. It feels intimate, but not strange at all. "I couldn’t stand it if I, oh god, if I," Stiles says, and he leans in slightly, and suddenly they’re kissing, warm and wet.

Derek pulls back when Stiles gets a little enthusiastic, nipping at his lip and he winces, still in pain, but it all feels subdued now, werewolf healing kicking in now that he’s no longer being beat up. Stiles runs his hand through his hair sheepishly, blushing, and it’s all kinds of adorable, wonderful and perfect that he’s no longer possessed. Derek slowly gets up, taking Stiles’ hand in his. “Come on, let’s go find the others.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr [here.](http://www.bleep0bleep.tumblr.com)


End file.
